


The Perfect Family

by Lidsworth



Series: The Perfect Family [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Evil Twins, Lots of Angst, M/M, can't promise a happy ending more, future humor, my original plan deviated from what i remembered, sad akihito
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:43:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes determination, willpower, and a lot of patience to craft the perfect family, negligence of either one of the above factors results in failure. In Takaba's endeavor to live a happy life with Asami, and the children the Crime Lord has forced onto him, he finds that the idea of a “perfect family” is harder to achieve than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an idea that I have had for ages. It's been sitting in my computer, and occasionally I'll work on it, but I decided to just go ahead and post it. It took me a long time to finish the first chapter, so it'll take me along time to finish the 2nd chapter  
> Meanwhile, I'm working on a request for Q, which involves demons, and a badass AKi. So stick around for that. sorry for any grammar mistakes!

It had been like this for two years.

Takaba ran a hand through his thin straw hair, and fought the urge to scream at the two children sitting at the table before him. He wanted to hit them, he so desperately wanted to slap those arrogant smirks off of their faces. He wanted to destroy those conniving expressions that taunted him day in and day out.

As they sat there, refusing to touch the food he had spent hours making, he wanted to rip their throats out.

They acted like this whenever Asami was not around. It began the same way, _always_ began to same way. Angry and grumpy, they would come to him, claiming they were famished, and out of the goodness of his heart, Akihito would fix them whatever they asked for.

At first, they tossed the occasional comments, “It's not like how mother used to make it” or “I liked it better when mother made it” into the air, but even when they would compare Takaba's cooking to that of their treacherous mother, they would at least nibble on whatever substance he provided for them.

Than again, Asami was always around during those times. Forcing both Takaba and his children to actually mingle with one another. When Asami was there, Takaba tolerated them, and they tolerated him.

But when Asami was gone, their true colors shone through the mask they upheld for their father. Refusing to eat Akihito's food was just one shade of their malicious personalities.

“I only eat this when mother makes it,” said Asami's young daughter, as she hopped off of her high chair, and took her plate with her. Takaba watched with a frozen horror as the girl carried her plate in her tiny hands, and emptied its contents into the trash can. Perfectly good food. Wasted.

“I'm not hungry anymore,” she spoke, and placed her plate in the sink.

Akihito, who leaned against the counter, refused to look at her any longer. The smirk on her face was enough to make him puke.

Walking past him now, he supposed one kick to her skull could relieve him of his unjust misery, but even he wasn't that stupid.

With her pigtails bobbing high in the air, tied with a pink ribbon, the little girl skipped to her room. Takaba looked towards the table, where her twin brother still sat, eying the plate of food. He held his fork, as if he wanted to eat something, yet was fearful of diverging from the path of defiance set for him by his sister.

Akihito stared.

He dropped the fork into the plate, hopped off of his chair and followed his sister.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Takaba paced around the bedroom that night, his hands were waving in the air in such an animated manor, he walked with a hunch in his shoulders, as if the entirety of the situation was weighing him down, he looked upward, and sometimes he averted his gaze to his feet as he complained to the older man who sat in their large bed.

“They don't like me Asami! Whatever life was like before I decided to come back ...it's not what it was like now. They hate me, they want their mother Asami! I can't _be_ there mother...” The photographer cried to the ceiling, because it was no different then protesting to Asami. 

The older man took a drag of his cigarette, and gazed at the red faced blond, who continued to blabber about a situation that could be fixed with time.

He was hungry for his kitten, he did not care to listen to his problems.

“Akihito, come here.” The older man's genuine command tore through the photograph's long string of complaints, and beckoned the younger man's attention towards the bed. Takaba stared at the older man, who returned the look with a very seductive gaze.

Takaba scolwed at him, with his mouth hung open slightly open. He gasped in disbelief.

“A-Asami, have you even been listening to me?” stuttered Takaba, as he-against his will-walked over the the large bed, “I've been talking-”  
“About a situation that we have already discussed, and like I have said many times before Akihito, give them time to adjust to you,” the older man regurgitated the same exact words he used to dispel any other protest Akihito may have wanted to broadside him with. 

Patience was a virtue, and a virtue that the photographer lacked.

Takaba fell to the bed as Asami grabbed the younger man's wrist, and pulled him close. He planted a wet kiss against the photographer's dry lips, and maneuvered his tongue inside of Takaba's mouth. Takaba swallowed whatever objection he had for Asami, and allowed the older man to work wonders on his body.

The issue regarding Takaba's step children was a  _very_ real issue, but so was the growing bulge in his pants. Fighting against Asami was pointless, and walking out was even more pointless. Running away solved nothing, and if anything, it symbolized that Akihito was losing to Asami's brats. 

The older man's words echoed throughout his head.

_Give them time to adjust to you..._ Takaba inwardly sighed as he allowed Asami's hands to unbutton his pants, and snake their way to his entrance... _What about my time to adjust._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Weeks later, nothing had changed. After work, he walked to the local bar. His camera bounced against his chest with each and every tired step he forced himself to walk. Exhaustion tugged on his brain as he fought to stay awake, stress clung to to his ankles like a prison chain, and slowed him down like the large, iron balls that criminals had grown so accustomed to in jails.

He mused on the thought. Living with Asami and his hateful children was like living in a prison, he supposed. The children hated him because he was not their mother, and he believed Asami hated him because he refused to see reason.

Akihito hated himself for staying in that mad house.

Kou, who hadn't heard from Takaba in weeks, invited the photographer to the bar after work. Luckily for Takaba, Asami was out with his kids. He had called Takaba earlier that day, but the photographer turned his phone off. He already knew what Asami wanted from him.

He wanted him to spend time with those kids, but Akihito didn't feel like being emotionally drained today. He didn't feel like putting on a fake smile, so Asami could believe that their make shift family was happy. Nor did he feel like forcing laughter to erupt from his chest, when his chest was nothing but a barren and cold wasteland, that used to hold his beating heart.

But he _did_ feel like drowning in his sorrows. Except, he'd never actually done it before. He hadn't really had much to be that sorry about.

Today, however, things were different. When he saw Kou, he was most defiantly drown in his sorrows, because tonight, he had _a lot_ to be sorry about.

He'd see Kou, and remember how life without Asami was. He'd remember how the pit in his heart, though painful, was bearable and could be filled with the laughter and joy of his family and friends.

He would remember who he was before he agreed to marry Asami, before he agreed to “mother” Asami's chilren.

He would remember what it was like to be him, to be Takaba Akihito. And he would be sorry because he threw it all away to become Asami Akihito.

Placing a hand on the door handle of the glass door, his wedding ring shined as it caught the light of the television from inside.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Three hours past midnight, and the moon hung high in the night sky. Three hours past midnight, and Akihito decided to come back home. It was nearly impossible for him to make it there, almost as impossible as it was for him to keep his wedding ring on at the bar.

But somehow, he had managed both.

Asami was there when he arrived. The older man sat on the table. He clutched his own glass of amber liqiud, and gazed at the photographer with heavy eyes as the young man removed his shoes.

“Where were you?” Began Asami.

Takaba bit back a chuckle. Why was it that he always began to sober up when Asami demanded answers from him? He thought he drank enough to last him throughout the night.

Obviously he was wrong.

The younger man sighed, “I was out with Kou.” What was the point of lying?

“Why didn't you answer your phone?” Inquired Asami, with a serious tone. Takaba rolled his eyes, and turned towards his spouse.

“I was tired after work, and I haven’t seen Kou in like forever,” replied Takaba, as he inwardly pleaded for Asami to leave him alone, “he thought I was dead.”

Asami raised an eyebrow, “Since when did your friendship with Kou outshine the commitment you've agreed to partake in with this family.”

Takaba mirthlessly laughed, and answered the question with a sharp hiss, “Oh Asami! You don't see it do you! This isn't a family! Stop trying to make it one!” The atmosphere dropped.

Asami's expression fluctuated from extremely shocked, to plain pissed. Through his impassive, emotionless mask, a crack dented his facade. Takaba was treading on thin ice, but in all honesty, he believed he'd already fallen too deep into the abyss to cause anymore damage to himself. So he went on.

“Oh, don't look at me like that! You know it's true too! Their mother gave them something that I couldn't! And no one will tell me what the hell it is that I can't do right!” Takaba was so angry now, so incredibly angry, “I'm wasting my damn life with these-” He stopped at the sound of tiny shuffling.

The children had sneaked away from their beds at the sound of their father arguing with Akihito, and now stood in the hallway, looking at the pitiful scene before them.

The daughter leaned on the doorway, her twin brother leaned against her.

Three pairs of golden eyes scowled at Akihito, and he suddenly felt like some poor insect being poked at, and experimented on by some mad merciless scientist.

The feeling made him sick, and took the fight out of him instantly.

“Why the hell do you keep staring at me like I’m some sort of insect?” The younger man was losing his cool, and his shaky hands snaking through his hair was a huge giveaway.

He stepped back towards the door and closed his eyes, he didn't want to live in this house anymore. Nobody here could understand him, and everyone was against him.

He didn't have the willpower to continue on like this. This was going to drive him insane.

“I'm...I have to get out of here,” he muttered under his breath as he backed up. He nearly toppled over his feet.

In his drunken haze, Asami had caught him before he crashed to the ground. Takaba maneuvered his body, so that his hands were pushing against Asami's chest in an attempt to rid himself of the older man. But it didn't work, Asami had grabbed his spouse's wrist, and pulled him close.

The kiss was rough and violent, but Akihito could tell that Asami was only trying to convey good intentions.

But Takaba was tired, he was so incredibly tired of all of this.

For an entire year he had to deal with this, and now Asami was asking more of him?

 

As for Asami, he was beginning to see the error of his ways. One sadistic glare towards his children had caused them scampering to their rooms.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The two children had come together that night after their father had sent them away with that devilish glare. Akihito was a wedge in their plan to unite their broken family. He needed to be gone! They needed to rid their father of him!

And that would pave way for their mother to come back, and fulfill the role she once played so well. This blond pretended to love them! They knew it, he didn't really love them at all! He just wanted their dad's money! Just like everyone else!

So they crafted a plan to destroy the bond shared by their father and that photographer. It would truly test Asami's patience, and hurt both twins just a little bit.

Literally.

And when they were done with Akihito,their father would divorce him, and their mother would finally come back.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Weeks passed by after the late night incident, and for once, it actually seemed as if the children were making an effort to adjust to Akihito.

They ate his food when Asami wasn't around, they even greeted him in the morning, and before bed. They attempted casual conversation with him, and even though it was slightly awkward, Akihito indulged in it.

He never hated Asami's children, in fact, he love them. _A lot._ That's why he agreed to come back to Asami after the entire fiasco with his ex-wife, because he thought he could make things work with them. And up until now, he believed that his choice to come back to Asami was a stupid one.

But things were finally getting better.

That is, until Asami's son pushed his sister off of the bed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The timing for their plan was perfect. Just right. Their father would be home any second now, and by the time he arrived inside, Takaba would be “caught” red handed.

Speaking of the photographer, Takaba found himself standing in the kitchen, fixing up some sort of lunch that could keep the kids at bay until dinner. He put some salad into a bowl, because he figured they needed something green to eat. He'd been fixing them a lot of sweet as of recent, and supposed Asami wouldn't find it charming to have fat children.

For the first time in forever, an achy sensation throbbed in Akihito's cheeks.

He was smiling because he was happy. He hadn't been happy for an entire year. Things were starting to finally change, they were finally starting to be a family.

He was just about ready to mix the salad, when he heard a “thud” through the walls. He stopped.

This had happened before, and both children were just playing with a ball. They'd been bouncing it against the wall repeatedly.

Or so they had claimed. But Takaba told them to stop earlier that day.

So, with a sigh, he put down his kitchen materials and headed to their room. He couldn't spank them for their behavior, but he could surely scold them.

If anything, these children had brought out his “parental” side, which was a good thing. He wasn't even entirely sure that he had one in the first place.

Suddenly, a high pitched scream erupted from down the hallway. The shrill startled Akihito, and suddenly, he found himself running faster than before in order to see what the commotion was about.

He didn't hear the door open behind him.

Running down the hallway, he nearly slipped as his socked feet made contact with the cold, wooden floor. The screaming was getting closer.

Takaba didn't waste anytime opening the door to the twin's room. Upon his intrusion, however, he was shocked by the scene before him.

Asami's daughter lay on the ground, and above her, on the bed, stood her brother. His arms were outstretched, as if he had pushed her onto the hard floor. The girl was crying, and nursing an injury that was sure to bruise very soon. Akihito ran over to the girl, and fell to his knees in an attempt to calm her down. She had fallen on her arm, and was using her tiny hand to cradle it.

“Hey! What's wrong, where's it hurting?” He grabbed her small arm, and attempted to set her up right. But at the mere touch of the bruising area, the girl cried in pain.

Above her, on the bed, stood her brother, who descended towards the duo. He lunged for his sister, thus successfully separating step-daughter from step-father. Takaba stared at the boy, completely appalled. Why on earth was her brother attacking her? What had provoked him to act like an animal?

He watched as brother attacked sister. Asami wouldn't appreciate it-  
Damn Asami's overprotective parenting methods, Takaba would most likely end up hurting one of these kids if he wanted to save Asami's daughter.

In a second, his hand had connected with the young boys stomach, and with a force perhaps to strong to apply to such a small child, he pushed the insane kid away from his sister. The boy toppled to the other side of the room with a thud. Golden eyes opened wide at the photographer, and Takaba simply gazed back.

“Don't act like you didn't deserve it,” Snarled Akihito, “You kids need to be hit every once in a while, at least that way you'd learn some discipline.”

The girl below him smiled. She didn't expect to get these kind of results, not so spot on, not so perfect. But it only worked to her advantage. She looked towards her brother, who had no way expected Akihito to actually touch him.

His breathing was erratic, his eyes were open wide and brimming with tears. He looked at Akihito as if he was the devil.

All three turned towards the doorway, as a tall, dark figure made its way into the room. The girl smiled wider than she had before.

It was her father.

“What's going on in-”

She seized the opportunity.

“Dad! Akihito got mad at us for no reason! He started hitting us!” Cried his daughter, as she wriggled out of Akihito's grip, and stumbled towards her father. Asami caught her as she nearly fell to the ground. However, he looked at her in disbelief, “Sayuri, are you telling me the truth?”  
“I..I...” If her lie hadn't won it, than he brother's traumatized expression had. He gasped at the sound of his father's voice.

The older Asami looked towards his son, and the expression on his face changed visibly. The boy looked shaken, and as Akihito slowly stood up, the boy shuffled, and ran to his father. He grabbed

onto his father's pant leg, and buried his teary face into the rough fabric.

The boy was trembling.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Ugh, I told you before Asami, I didn't hit them!” Hours of interrogation, hours of the same exact answers, and Asami still was having a hard time believing _Akihito,_ the person he married. The photographer paced around the bed room with a reasonable amount of anger in each step. Once or twice he dragged a hand through his thinning hair, and wondered why it hadn’t fallen out yet.

“Then explain the bruises,” retorted the older man, “And you've already admitted to pushign-”  
“Yeah, I pushed him off of his sister because he was _hurting_ her-”  
“That isn't what she told me, Akihito,” the older man was fighting to control his rage, but the fact that Akihito, whom he had trusted with his life, was even suspected of touching his children, was enough to set him off, “Please, I advise you, to chose your next words _very_ carefully.”

Takaba stopped, and turned on his heels. He was staring dead at Asami now, and his angry eyes were surprisingly dry. He supposed he'd spent too much energy on being angry, rather than being sad. He wasn't going to win this battle, not this time.

It was his word against their word, and Asami was going to chose their word.

“I've already told you everything that happened,” Akihito said silently, “Yes, I pushed your son away, but that's because he was hurting his sister...they _hate_ me Asami, they want me gone. Whether you believe-”  
“And the ramblings of a madman grow more desperate by the second,” cooed the older man, though his gaze was far from amusing, “Akihito.”

Takaba brought a hand to the bridge of his nose, and nodded at the summon.

“I honestly don't know what to believe anymore. You've had no patience for them since I allowed you back in. All you've done is complain about how they don't accept you, yet I hardly see you take the time to get to know them. Perhaps it is you who hates them. I figured over time, things would get better...but today, my daughter comes to me with bruises on her arm, and my son is nearly traumatized because you pushed him into a wall. Perhaps Akihito,” Asami sighed, and closed his own eyes, “You should leave for just-”  
Takaba was seething. His lip was bleeding from his teeth tearing into it as Asami spewed lies about him and his relationship with the kids.  
“Fuck you Asami! You only see whatever the hell they let you see! I'm the one who has to pick them up from school, who has to stay here with them on the weekends, take them places, or do whatever the hell you're supposed to do, but you can't because you're somewhere else! You wanna complain about me not giving them time to adjust to me? But what about my fucking time to adjust to them, or this entire fucking household?” he didn't even look at Asami, the tears were clouding his vision, “Ever since i've met you, i've haven't gotten one fucking say on how I want to live my life! It's either you throw me away, or pick me up! I hate it Asami, but I could deal with it! This...with these kids, this is just too much though. I love them Asami, and I _try,_ I fucking try but i'm not their mother-”  
“Aki-”  
“Don't you dare cut me off!” His voice was cracking with sobs now, but he didn't care, “Why don't you set up some damn plan with their mom so they can at least be happy! I at least want that for them, even if they are lying about me! Maybe it's just better with me out of the picture...God I hate this, I don't want to live like this Asami!I just...I just-”  
“Should leave,” Asami replied with a tight voice, “Just stay with-”  
Takaba was gone, out of the bedroom, before Asami could finish his sentence.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“If I let you stay, he's not gonna kill me, is he?” Kou attempted to add a little light to the gloomy situation, although, his question wasn't entirely a carefree one. It was common knowledge between Takaba's small circle of friends who Akihito was married to. And though no one would be able to tell by just looking at Akihito, he was indeed married to one of Japan's richest men. However, that was not the path that his friends wanted him to take, not at all.

Akihito shrugged, “I don't think he cares enough about me to care...I don't know if I do either.”

Kou opened the door, and allowed his depression friend to walk through. The small, silver ring still shone in the sunlight.

“Are you two still...together, Takaba?” Kou hadn't called him by his married name, and until he believed his friend's relationship with that man was real, he would continue to call him Takaba. The blond never seemed to protest.

“I guess,” Akihito sounded slightly deflated, “I just...”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Because Takaba was practically loaded when it came to wealth, he decided to take his friend's out eating at an upscale restaurant. Akihito was never one to actually spend the money that he'd gained after his marriage with Asami, much to the Crime Lord's dismay. Takaba didn't like spending money because he had so little to begin with. To him, spending money seemed like taking money for granted.

But this time was different, this time wasn't for him. He was doing this for his friends, so that they could at least pretend that he was okay.

He'd invited Takato, his wife and his youngest daughter to eat out with he and Kou. They had happily obliged. Takato's daughter, who had taken a particular liking in Akihito just a month after she was born, had climbed into the photographer's lap, and place her hands on the table above her. Takaba's hands were wrapped around her tiny torso.

She reminded him of her older sister, who was slightly fond of the photographer.

The three chatted about their daily lives, and all the while, Akihito softly drummed on this child's stomach.

He let his mind drift away, away to the time when he first told his friends he was choosing to get back with Asami.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“ _He has kids Aki, real, live kids!” Takato made it a point to drill that fact into Takaba's soft head, “You'll be taking care of them too! Trust me, it's not easy! Especially if it's not something you want to do in the first place!”_

_Takaba sat down on Kou's bed, and above him, his two friends lectured him about his choice to marry Asami. The photographer refused to make eye contact with the men above him._

“ _He's just using you Aki! Why can't you see that? He threw you away to marry some woman, had kids, and now he's done with her!” Shouted Kou, “What makes you two different? It's certainly not that ring on your finger Aki!”_

“ _He could by millions of those if he wanted to, and they mean the same thing to every person who wears them. Nothing!” Hissed Takato, who took notice of his friends ignorant gaze, “Takaba, we just can't see you hurt again. Not by him!”_

“ _Y-you've been doing so well Aki, and we know it's been hard for you, but you've come a long way,” Kou knelt down, and squeezed Takaba's palms. He looked him in the eyes._

“ _Please Akihito...don't do this to us...don't do this to yourself.”  
Kou's fingers brushed over the steel engagement ring that was placed around Akihito's finger. He wanted to rip the piece of scrap metal off of his friend's hand, and toss it in a toilette and flush it away. _

_Hopefully, he could flush Asami away too._

_But that was nearly impossible, as Akihito was drunk off of Asami's love. He craved it so badly that he forced himself to ignore the lie that was standing before him._

“ _Things are different this time...” muttered the blond, “He says he loves me,” he looked up towards Kou, “He's never said that before!”_

“ _Ugh Takaba, does that even mean anything to him? You told us before that he had sex with you just because he felt like it! You're just in denial-”  
“I'm **not** denial!” Roared the blond as he stood up, “I can make my own damn decis-”_

“ _If you could make your own “damn decisions” than you wouldn't be in this mess in the first place!” Retorted Takato, whose voice bore just as much volume as Akihito's, “Are you trying to drive yourself crazy?”_

“ _Yelling isn't going to fix anything,” still on his knees, Kou turned towards his two friends, “Just let him do whatever he wants to do.”_

Takaba blinked as something wet touched his finger. He looked down at his hand, and smiled at the small toddler who was chewing his finger. She looked up at him with beady eyes, and beat her tiny hands upon his larger ones.

Suddenly, a small drip of moisture fell atop of her large forehead. She blinked. Another drip. The little girl brought her chubby hand to her forehead, and smeared the tears off of her head. She smiled.

And Akihito tried to smile too, but the tears just wouldn’t stop falling.

With one hand still wrapped around the chubby girl, Takaba brought his free on to his mouth, and began to cry. His shoulder's shook, his breathing grew erratic, and he began taking long steady breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He closed his eyes tightly, though the tears continued to squeeze their way out of his shut lids.

His friends had been right. They had been so fucking right.

His wailing garnered the attention of his friends, who upon hearing him, lost track of their conversation. They turned towards Akihito, who was falling apart.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
It was a little over a month, and things were starting to get a little better. Kou didn't allow Akihito to leave his apartment though. No one actually trusted him enough to be by himself, much to his annoyance. However, Takaba didn't mind Kou's company, and neither did Kou mind his.

Every now and then, he'd babysit Takato's daughter, which wasn't a problem for him. She adored him, and he adored her. Despite the gigantic age gap between he and the baby, he kind of considered them to be close friends. Whenever he was alone with her, he spoke to her about how he felt, and how screwed up his life was.

He spared her the gruesome details, as she wasn't old enough to comprehend the situation he was stuck in.

Speaking of his situation, he wasn't entirely sure where his marriage stood.

Every now and then, he'd lay down, with his back against the floor, and Takato's tiny daughter sitting on his stomach, just bouncing up and down with each breath he took. He would think about what Asami was doing with his children. Would they be happier without him, would they be meeting their mother?

Would Akihito be forgotten? Was Akihito being forgotten?

There hadn't been any guards at his door to force him back to Asami, nor had their been any calls or letters of any sort from Asami. Every once and a while, Akihto would remove his ring to test his own commitment, but would find himself returning it to his finger just seconds later. He wondered if Asami had tossed his in the trash can.

He probably had, it was just a shame that Akihito couldn't throw his own ring away.

Until death finally came to claim him, and his body had decayed under the harsh conditions of earth, would his ring finally slip off of his finger for good. Until then, he was keeping it. It actually meant something to him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
Akihito's account had been frozen days after he withdrew a subtle amount of cash from it. Obviously, the freezing was Asami's doing. Maybe it was his way of telling Akihito that things were finally over, that they both needed to move on.

So he attempted to do just that.

Takaba had taken up photography again, and when he wasn't babysitting Takato's infant daughter, or picking up her older sister from school, he was always taking pictures. Occasionally, he would team up with Mitari, and than other times, he would work by himself.

Photography served as a major distraction from the terrible life that he had chosen for himself. Since he started working again, he began to take pictures of other, non-human subjects. He took photos of plants, and of animals. Sometimes, when it was so sunny, that the morning dew shone off of the grass like miniature diamonds, the photographer would fall to his elbows and knees and snap an innocent shot of tiny insects.

They lived in their own world.

Sometimes, he was very jealous of them.

These brainless, emotionless insects were his inspiration. They died without living, and they lived without dying. They lived life in a sequence, everything was planned, nothing unexpected that they couldn't handle.

Akihito lived the exact opposite of that.

He didn't know what to expect the next day, or what was going to happen the day after that. He lived in fear and in anticipation.

He hated it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
Nearly six months had gone by, and things were starting to readjust themselves. Takaba had finally convinced his friends that he could live alone, and with the little money he earned from photography, and the other small amount he withdrew from his account, he was living in his own apartment again. It reminded him of old times.

He invited his friends over frequently to eat and to hang out. Occasionally, he would babysit Takato's daughters in his apartment when he was free.

Needless to say, Akihito was readjusting, and things were getting better.

That is until Kou broke his camera.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Kou wasn't a photographer, and Kou would never be a photographer. Despite that, he believed he was smart enough to operate Takaba's camera. Akihito, being the friend he was, allowed him to use it.

Not only did Kou jam the film, he dropped it, and the lens shattered.

It was Takato's wife who offered to get the lens replaced.

“The hospital I work at is next to a top notch technology repair place,” she had said, as she invited all of the boys into the car, “And consider it my treat, Takaba. You've been watching our kids, and you've invited us out to dinner. Besides, I got a raise yesterday.”

Takato's wife was one of the head doctors at the hospital she worked at , so picking up the camera tab wasn't incredibly hard for her.

She could do it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
It had been a while since Akihito had traveled deep into the heart of Shinjuku. Since his separation with Asami, he avoided the district at all cost. However, his friends had convinced him that just this once, he should swallow his fear, and delve into the district with them.

Besides, that's where the expensive electronic repair shop was.

It was midday, and many people were out and about. Akihito kept his gaze glued to his feet as he trailed behind his group of friends. Takato held his tiny daughter in his arms, while his older one fell back, and walked slightly in front of Takaba.

Every so often, she looked over her shoulder at Akihito, and quickly turned away with a blush. He would just smile to himself, as he remembered being around her age, and having crushes on women that were old enough to be his mother.

He had volunteered to take all of them out to see a movie after the repair shop, and though he was no longer living off of he and Asami's shared account, he had just enough to spare for some cheap form of entertainment.

The sidewalks of Shinjuku were pouring with civilians. It was to be expected of such a populated area. Because she was so small, and because they were heading into a crowded area, Akihito had closed the distance gap between he and Takato's daughter. The brunette looked up at him with a blush, and snaked her tiny fingers around his.

As they bypassed more pedestrians and families, the girl made an effort to press her tiny body against Takaba's larger one, in order to stay close to the group.

With every step he took, his camera, which was hung on a lanyard around his neck, bounced up and down. The small girl looked up at the dark piece of technology.

“...You want to hold it? I mean, it's broken, but you can still hold it,” Akihito removed the lanyard from around his neck, and offered it to the younger Takato, “I can show you how to-”

On the other side of the street, exactly opposite of where Takaba was standing, spilled a large group of people onto. He supposed that his constant feet gazing had made it nearly impossible for him to intake his complete surroundings, but now, as he handed the tiny girl his camera, he was surprised by the buzz going on around him.

They had passed a rather large restaurant, which was notorious for catering to the richest men and women of Japan. Akihito had snapped some photos there before.

Had he known they were going that way, he would have opted out immediately. For out of the corner of his eyes, Akihito caught the familiar glint of a rather large limousine pulling up on the street near the sidewalk, where the group was now standing.

“How do I use it...” The girl's questions flew deaf on Akihito's ears, as the presence of his estranged spouse had suddenly caught his eyes.

Takaba's heart froze as two identical children poured out of crowd, pushed through the large number of elites, and hopped to their father's side. Asami himself spoke with another, well dressed man, who most likely was a business partner of his. The twins stalled at their father's side, leaning into his pant legs.

Takaba tore his gaze away from the group, as many members had already floated into the car, thus, allowing a clear view between Akihito, the street, and Asami.

As Takaba knelt down to instruct the tiny girl on the mechanics of his camera, he made sure his back was turned to the crime lord. Though Asami hadn't seen him yet, he didn't feel like taking any chances.

“It's easy...” he forced through his chattering teeth, “Just click this button when you...when you want to take pictures, and here, you can adjust the...”  
Yes, talking about cameras made him feel comfortable. If only he could continue doing so until Asami got in the car.

Takato, Kou, and Takato's wife, Kotomi, had walked back at the sudden absence of two important members of their group. Seeing that Akihito was somewhat adjusting, they smiled to each other, and hi-fived in the air.

Takato's infant daughter tried to join as well, but her chubby, short arm couldn't reach that high.

The group chuckled, thus successfully earning Akihito's attention.

He made the mistake of turning towards his friends, only to redirect his gaze to Asami, and his children who stood on the other side of the street.

Family...they were a family. A family that Akihito _yearned_ to be apart of, but couldn't, because he was him. A pain, unlike any other welled up in his chest, as he watched from as distance as Asami patted his young daughter’s head fondly, and patted his son on the back.

His gut felt heavy, and his breathing grew uneven. He imagined himself tenderly touching those children, like a parent. Kissing them on the forehead, reading them bedtimes stories, playing with them, cooking for them, and just _loving them!_ Takaba wanted that more than anything. He wanted he, Asami and the twins to be a perfect family.

But that was an illusion, a silly fantasy thought up by Akihito. Too much had been done to deter their affection from their mother, and Akhito was not their mother. He never would be.

He was once again drowning in his own self pity.

“Aki...what's wron-”  
The sound of hot rubber screeching against the pavement silenced the little girl, but heightened Akihito's senses tenfold. Down the street, hurling through the air as fast as a bullet, sped a large, black car. The windows were tinted, the licenses plates were gone.

Takaba chanced a glance at the limo, who upon Asami's order, had began to drive off without he an his family.

He hadn't noticed the car yet, the car that was coming straight towards him and his kids.

Without much thought, Akihito ran through the street in a second, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see the suspicious looking vehicle slow down slightly, just enough to lower the window.

Now Asami noticed it, and noticed a red faced, panting Akihto as well. The photographer slid in front of the businessman, his family, and his business partner, and braced himself for searing pain that was sure to come.

Loud like thunder and ringing like dinner bell, five gunshots when off.

Two missed their targets, and the other three found themselves embedded into Akihito's body. And if that wasn't enough, the car drove up on the curve, and charged straight towards Asami. Asami pulled at his son, and moved him out of the way instantly. His daughter, however, had brought a hand to her mouth, as the car came straight towards her.

Evil or not, Akihito still loved Asami's kids with all of his heart, and not even the shit they put him through could destroy what he felt for them.

He was prepared to die for Sayuri. Throwing caution to the wind, Akihito stumbled in front of her.

Silence ensued, and to them, the situation stopped, as if someone had just pressed the pause button on the fatal scene.

He smiled at her, and for the two of them, it seemed like time froze in place. Akihito took the chance the mutter his unspoken apology, because he was almost certain that this would be the last time he saw her.

_I'm sorry I couldn't be who you wanted me to be, but no matter what, I still love all three of you-_ Takaba pushed her back with all of his might. Her tiny body flew into Asami, and the large car ran over Akihto. Bones broke like glass, organs crushed like a rotting apples, and clashed into each other like angry waves. Like that of a child shuffling his tiny feet through a bed of gravel, Akihito's fragile insides were mixed and matched with one another, causing the photographer unimaginable bouts of pain. The car backed off of him, and reversed into the street.

 

There was blood everywhere. 

Kotomi was already on her knees, her white jeans staining with the blood pouring from Akihito's body. She began to rip bits and pieces of her blouse off, and cover what she could. But there were three bullet wounds, and the thin pieces of her blouse were doing nothing. She called to her daughter, who threw the camera off of her neck, as she ran over to her mother to help her with the medical procedure. 

She wanted to be a doctor anyway. 

“Hotaru, I need you to put your hands here, and here, press down as hard as you can, okay! Takato-Christ honey, wake up!” Her husband, upon seeing his friend at the brink of death, fell face first onto the concrete. Luckily, his youngest daughter had been free of her father's clutches before he fell. Kou quickly ran to the baby, and picked her up. 

He looked down at the morbid scene below him. Akihito had stilled, his face was pale, and his eyes were closed. 

The two Takato's worked hard to suppress his bleeding, but it didn't look like Akihito would make it through this time. 

Meanwhile, the photographers mind drifted off into another world. 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“ _I want to start-”_

“ _If this is you apologizing Asami, I don't want to hear it! I'm not about to become your mistress! Not this time, you're married already, you have twins! It's over! Why are you even trying!?”_

“ _We're divorced, Akihito. I've told you this-”  
“And that changes things? I'm sorry Asami, you can't just come to me when you feel like it, and drop me when you're bored! No, it doesn't work that way! You obviously wanted something I couldn't give you, and now you have it! So just leave me alone already, okay!” _

_They sat at a table, outside of a near empty restaurant. After months of denied phone calls and endless text messages from Asami, which practically begged the photographer to meet up with him, Akihito had finally given in. Why he even entertained the idea of showing up, he hadn't a clue. But he was here now, meeting Asami face to face for the first time in forever._

_The entire meeting seemed so...surreal. Just four years ago, Asami had left him, had gotten married, and had kids. No thanks to his treacherous bitch of a wife, the marriage had fallen through, leaving Asami spousesless , and craving the man that he had abandoned years ago._

“ _I can't leave you alone, Akihito,” spoke the older man, as he rubbed the side of Akihito's face,”Living without you has been hell.”  
Against his better judgment, the photographer snaked his fingers along Asami's hand, and pressed the larger man's limb closer to his face. He closed his eyes and sighed. _

“ _Than why did you leave?”_

“ _...Because I didn't believe in what we had...”  
Takaba opened his eyes, and recoiled from Asami, “W-what hell does that mean? Was everything between us a fucking joke?” _

“ _No, of course not Akihito. I don't think you're understanding me correctly. I was unsure of what we felt, I did not want to label it in fear of internal weakness...I did not want to fall in love with you.”_

 _With misted eyes, the younger man stared at Asami, “You left, got married, had kids all because you didn't want to love me? Was I that terrible to be around?”_  
“I never loved her, Akihito,” the man brushed a tear off of Akihto's cheek, “Only you. I was just too foolish to realize that. I've made a mistake-”  
“Hell yeah you have!” The photographer choked out, “And I don't know if I’m willing to help you finish this, how do I know-” 

_It was Asami's turn to cut the younger man off this time. The Crime Lord seized Akihito's trembling hand, and slipped a cool, silver band on the ring finger._

_Tears rolled down Akihito's cheeks, and obscured his vision. However, the sheen of the metal still shone through his gaze._

“ _A..Asami, what the hell...”  
For the first time in forever, the older man sitting across from him looked very unsure of himself, and almost doubtful. _

“ _Marry me?” It was weak, and small, and slightly embarrassing, but it was all Asami had to offer. Because too much, or too little would have deterred Akihito all together._

_The younger man stared at the band. Saying yes sealed his fate, saying yes would change his life completely._

_For better of for worse. Asami had kids, Akihito wasn't ready to be a parent...but he wanted a family, and Asami wanted him in **his** family. He wanted them to be happy together. _

_And even if Akihito did say no, did he have much of a choice regarding his freedom?_

_So he did what he believed to be right._

“ _Y..yes!” Cried the photographer, “Of course you idiot! But you're gonna have to make this up to me...because these few years haven't been easy you know, i've had a lot of shit i've had to...to...”_

_Akihito's sobs prevented him from finishing his complaint, and Asami had seized the moment to walk over to his fiance's side of the table, lean down, and kiss him._

That was one of Akihito's happiest, fondest memories. And the last memory he had before he succumbed to the darkness.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments, and the kudos! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Originally, this was supposed to be two chapters, but obviously, that didn't work. So I hope you enjoy this chapter.   
> I self beta'd it, so if anything has been missed, please tell me.

_Was it closure he wanted? Was it a personal sense of ending he yearned for? Or was it just some sick sort of belief that Asami would actually come back to him after this?  
As these questions swirled into his head, the photographer found himself questioning his decision to attend Asami's new wife's baby shower. The event had been made public, and Asami's gaudy significant other had practically invited the press into the hall. _

_Akihito, being the photographer he was, had instantly been recommended by his boss. At first, he didn't want to go, in fact, he didn't believe he could even make it._

_But he reminded himself that he lived for things like this, reminded himself that he needed to chase the thrill in order to survive._

_His boss had arranged for him to be here, and he would be here. He'd take a couple of pictures, get in and get out...Aasmi was over him, and he was getting over Asami._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_The hall was filled with beautiful lights, and it was large and spectacular. There were numerous men and women plastering the floor, sitting at extravagant tables and grazing the marble, tiled ground. They all talked and chatted with one another, and all the while, Akihito had maintained his seat at a large, circular table._

_Alone._

_In the midst of the busting crowd, Akihito had caught a glimpse of Asami, and his very pregnant wife._

_Asami's arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, and the couple stood talking to another couple. As he reached for his camera, Akihito felt the sharp ting of pins and needles running through his veins._

“ _Just take the picture” he told himself, as his camera rose to his face, “Just take it.”_

_Snap._

_He took the picture, and the flash, like that of many others, extinguished, as soon as it was ignited. Takaba looked at the photo that he had captured and instantly gasped._

_Asami was looking right at him, and with that stern gaze, emotions that he had tried to keep locked away were forcing themselves into the forefront of his mind._

_Before he knew it, he began to sweat. His foot began to tap nervously on the marble floor, and his fingers began to shake around his camera. He tried to steady his uneven breath, but he found the action nearly impossibly._

_Envy clawed at his insides like an insane cat, and his cheeks burned with sadness, as he fought the urge to cry.  
Asami looked so relaxed around her, he looked so proud. His stature, his dedication put into this hall, his sudden move to propose to this woman stood as a totem of the way he felt for her, and did not feel for Akihito. _

_Would Asami do all of this for Akihito? Would Akihito even want this? Probably not, but still, it was the thought that counted._

_Suddenly, he was made aware of how unfair this entire fiasco with Asami had been. He was forced to be with him, and accidentally ended of falling in love with him, only to be tossed to the side when Asami grew tired of him.  
“No...” muttered Akihito, as his eyes burned to the brim with tears, “Fuck no.” _

_He stood faster than expected, as the chair behind him fell to the floor with a thud. Despite the loud volume of speaking, those around Akihito cast him nervous and agitated glances, but he didn't care._

_Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Asami turn towards him. And for once, the man looked taken aback._

_That's what that old bastard gets! Thought the photographer, somewhat optimistic that he got one good thing out of attending this damned baby shower._

_He stormed to the doors of the hall, and pushed them open. In front of him was a large hallway, and once his feet hit the smooth surface, he broke into a freedom sprint._

_His first steps felt heavy, and clingy, like he wanted to turn back, go into the hall, and snatch Asami away from that woman. But he knew he couldn't, and with each step he took forward, the weight lifted off of him._

_There were tears in his sprint, but they were a mixture of sadness and joy. Sadness, because he had most certainly just lost the man he loved, but happiness, because he was young, and he could start over._

_It wouldn't be easy, of course, but he would be able to get through this._

_Like a soul detaching from its body, and speeding through the large corridor of darkness, the doors in front of him shone with light, beautiful light from outside._

_He stopped momentarily, and turned his head back, just as any soul ready to cross did before they died. Except, the never had a choice regarding if they wanted to stay or not. They could only look back on their memories._

_Akihito wasn't dead, no, in fact, he was very much alive. And he proved so by turning around with a victorious, tear stained expression, and pushing the doors open._

_Perhaps down the corridor, the door leading to the hall opened just slightly, perhaps it was even Asami telling him to come back. But he didn't listen, he didn't look back._

_He wasn't going to be dead anymore._

 

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_Outside, he smelled the thick scent of rain, and his suspicion was confirmed as he spotted large puddles of water which shined in the street lights. With his camera around his neck, and his hands in his pocket, Akihito began to descend down the concrete steps._

_However, a soft voice stopped him._

“ _Akihito?” The gentle voice asked, which came from outside of the building behind him. Takaba turned around, and looked at the area from which the voice came from._

_Pale skin, dark hair, and an even darker suit, the familiar specter came walking out of the shadows, and slowly approached the photographer._

_It was Fei Long._

“ _F-Fei Long! What are you doing here?” Began the photographer, shocked to see one of Asami's former enemies so close to him, in Japan. Akihito figured he should have run away, or screamed or anything...but the Chinese man didn't seem at all menacing, and if anything, just strange due to his location._

_Fei Long smirked, as he made his way down the steps, “I'd like to ask you the same question, Akihito. If I'm correct, Asami is married, and is expecting his desired heir. What business do you have being here?”_

_Although Akihito was most certain that Fei Long meant no harm with what he had said, having the truth spewed in his face hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before. However, he bit back his emotions, and shrugged._

“ _I was supposed to take pictures for the editor,” Akihito admitted rather casually, “But I..You never told me what you were doing here.”  
Fei Long smiled, and leaned against the rail that split through the center of the concrete stairs, “No reason.” _

_Now it was Akihito's chance to smirk, “Still can't get over Asami?”_

_Fei Long gasped at the sudden accusation, and looked quite taken aback. He closed his eyes in an agitated manner, and crossed his arms, “I got over Asami long ago, and am currently being entertained by someone better than both you and Asami combined” admitted the Mafia boss, completely unashamed of allowing Akihito the liberty of hearing a small excerpt from his personal life, “And If your so interested in my reasoning for being here, it's by pure coincidence. A business partner of mine suggested I got to a gathering with her, and unfortunately it turned out to be...this. I refuse to go inside, and am awaiting my ride.”  
Takaba chuckled at the Baishe leader, “That sucks.” _

_Fei Long nodded, “Yes, it does-I'm curious, since you're so prideful about your camera, at least enough to brave such an event, why exactly is it so important to you?”  
Akihito closed his own eyes, and sat on the steps, “My godfather gave it to me before he passed away. He wasn't a photographer or anything like that, in fact, he and his wife were doctors. He just happened to have a camera.” _

_Fei Long looked at the expression that crossed Akihito's face as he told the story, and the mixture of melancholy and nostalgia that stained his features was so familiar to Fei Long, that it was sickening. Yet he wanted to know more about Akihito._

_He bet a million that Asami never questioned Akihito like this before._

“ _You miss him, don't you?” spoke the Chinese man, softly, “Before you went to school, did he teach you how to take pictures?”_  
At that, a brilliant light lit up the photographers gloomy features,”Yeah, kinda. I remember, one day, when it was really cold and snowing, he took me outside alone, because my brothers and sisters were watching a movie. Anyway, we hiked through the neighborhood, and found a place where it was all white and pretty. He took a camera out of his coat, and took a picture. He let me take pictures too, it was really fun...and then one day, he had to leave for a really long time. I was young, but I knew what was going on. I did get his camera next Christmas though...but a few days after that, his wife called my mom on the phone, and said he died. That's that I guess.”   
As Akihito spoke, he felt the weight on his chest lifting off completely. He felt happier, and almost as if some soothing presence was comforting him.

“ _I'm not too sad about it, he wasn't sad about it, at least I don't think he was. When I got the camera, he wrote, “You don't know what you've lost until you've lost it, so take pictures so you'll remember it”...yeah...that's pretty much it.”  
Fei Long nodded, and for a short while, silence ensued. _

_The older man leaned against the metal bar, while Akihito rested on the steps. A cool gust of wind blew through the air, and fluttered past the only two beings outside._

_Suddenly, Fei Long spoke again._

“ _I'm sorry,” he apologized._

_Akihito looked shock, and turned towards the long haired man, “Sorry for what? The story? It's okay, sure, I miss him, but it's not the end of the world. As long as I keep on taking pictures, I feel like I’m doing what I love, and what he loved...”_

_Fei Long nodded, “Than if it makes you feel happy, I’m not sorry.”_

_The photographer chuckled, “Then don't be.”_

_It felt like a normal conversation between two friends who went way back. There were no guns, no drugs, no anything, it was just a chat with a concerned friend. Without Asami, Akihito supposed he could get used to this. Get used to branching out, and perhaps even get to know Fei Long a bit more, if possible. It wasn't everyday that a man like the Baishe leader stepped foot into other countries._

_But he was comfortable, they were both comfortable, and Akihito admired that._

“ _By the way, if you don't mind me asking, are you with that Russian guy I met on the boat? I really hope not, because he was a creep.” The mere memory of the ship should have been enough to make his stomach turn, but yet, it didn't disgust him as much as he believed it would. He was here with Fei Long, who wasn't trying to attack him, or anything weird._

_They were just talking._

_At the description of Fei Long's favorite Russian, the older man chuckled, “Do you mean Mikhail? As tempting as it is to be with him, I would consider it a waste of time and of life. We both carry too much extra baggage to be happy with one another, though believe me, he tried to make it work,” Fei Long told with a light laugh, “But no, we're just friends. However, I-”  
Below the steps, and on the street, a dark black car pulled up next to the curb. Out of the car came a rather tall looking man with rather large looking glasses on, and from the rays of the bright street light, a dark shade of rather gray hair. _

_Akihito tilted his head in confusion. Was that was the kind of man Fei Long liked? He looked like some old professor._

“ _Well would you look at that, its him. Send Asami my regards,” Joked the Chinese man, and for once, the mention of the name had no effect on Akihito, “And by the way, let's keep in touch.”_

“ _But-”_  
“Don't worry, if I want your contact information, I'll get it.”   
Takaba nodded, and watched as the Chinese man went. However, before he could leave, Akihito ran behind Fei Long, and latched onto him. He buried his face in the smooth hair, and wrapped his arms around the muscular torso 

“ _Thank you, Fei Long,” whispered Akihito, “Thank you for everything.”  
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

He felt like a dandelion seed, seconds away from fluttering into the wind. His body swayed back and forth, and it took all of his willpower to remain apart of the dandelion. Unfortunately, his willpower wasn't that strong.

He could no longer feel the excruciating pain that came with the car wreck and gunshot wounds, nor could he feel the surgeons dragging, poking and probing through his crushed body, in a weak attempt to rescue him from the inevitable.

As he slipped away, long gone memories began to cling onto his sub conscience.

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

“ _They say you're going to get really sick and pass away,” began the boy, as he followed in his godfather's large footsteps on the snowy sidewalk._

“ _You know what passed away means?” Questioned the blond man, who looked back at his godson with bewilderment, “What an impressive boy you are.”  
Because Akihito was indeed aware of what “passed away” was code for, even his godfather's jovial compliments were not enough to make him feel better._

“ _Yes, I know what it is, Dmitri, now tell me if it's true,” he said rather bluntly, obviously tired of putting up with his parents lies, “you're not going to die, are you?”  
Dmitri smiled, and eyes as blue as the brightest sea turned to look at Akihito, “Dying? Of course not, boy! Dying means the end of everything-As you kids like to call it nowadays “game over”. No, my game will not be over, let's just say it's just beginning.” _

_Akihito smiled. That's what he wanted from his godfather, that's what he always wanted from his godfather. A second meaning to an already tangible, solid idea or belief, he wanted it to be “sugar coated” or riddled._

_His godfather had a way of taking things out of context without lying._

“ _So...since you're not “dying” and your game isn't over, what's next?”_

_Dmitri shrugged, “I suppose I continue another level, yes?”  
At this, Akihito looked down, “A level without us?” He said rather sadly. _

_The Russian man ruffled his godson's blond hair, “I wouldn't say “without us” Just not “with” you.”_

_Akihito was confused at the interchangeable phrase, “Isn't that the -”_  
“No, it's not the same. Without implies that I’ll never return to you, that I’m “out” for good. However, not being with you at the moment means I can make appearances whenever I like, especially when you're playing really badly. You're not getting rid of me yet, Akihito!”   
They both giggled, and the small boy grabbed on to his godfather's leg. They had stopped on a rather large hill, and below them, the entire neighborhood was covered in a large blanket of snow. It looked like a winter wonderland. 

_Akihito was amazed at how far they had walked from the house, and was surprised that he hadn't gotten tired yet. His snow boots were lined inside with fur, so his feet weren't getting cold, and his large jacket kept him warm as well._

_He looked up at his godfather who adorned a pair of worn out sneakers and an open coat. He wondered if the reasoning for such attire came from his time in Siberia, or if he just didn't care anymore._

“ _Akihito, would you like to take a picture?” Asked his godfather. The boy beamed, “Yeah!”_

_He hadn't expected the piece of technology pulled from Dmitri's coat to be so complex, especially for a camera. The only kinds he had seen had been tiny, and disposable._

“ _Here, I’ll take a few, and I'll let you. Just pay attention.”_

_The boy nodded, and Dmitri knelt to Akihito's tiny height, and demonstrated. Seconds later, Akihito was taking pictures for himself._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_Christmas saw Akihito his very own camera, courtesy of his godfather. The week after Christmas saw his godfather in a coffin, and the entire family making their way to his Church to “celebrate” as they called._

_Because his godfather had downplayed his inevitable death, the funeral itself went by quickly, and rather uneventfully for Akihito. The Takaba's their best did comfort Dmitri’s' poor wife, Mrs. Hatsumomo who had allowed them to call her Mrs. A, and invited her over to stay at their house._

_None of Dmitri's relatives from Russia had attended the funeral, and the pews were filled with friends rather than family._

_Luckily Dmitiri had a lot of friends._

“ _What happens before we die, like, the few minutes before we die?” Akihito found himself asking his mother, who walked through the green grass quite skillfully, given that she was wearing dark, eight inch stiletto heels._

_His mother looked down at him, and though he hadn't seen her crying in the church, her mascara pooled down her tan face, and with her large eyes bearing down upon him, she looked like a sad owl._

_She blinked, and supposed that the funeral had paved way for such a deep question. So as child friendly as she could, she answered, “They say that you start to see memories flash before your eyes before you go. Sometimes it's your entire life, while other times, it's just those memories that matter to you.”_  
Akihito nodded, “Mommy, do you think we have a choice of whether we want to stay or go?”   
Sadly, she shook her head, “I think when it's decided Aki, it's decided. But you get to see all of your happy memories at least? Right?”  
The boy nodded, though he was still at odds with the answer, “Can we come back?” 

_She tilted her head, and scraped her brain for an accurate answer, but she couldn't find one, “Who knows Akihito? But hey, let's not be concerned about that, okay? Are your memories flashing in your head now, really fast?”  
The boy giggled, “No.” _

Yes.

“ _Are you injured, or sick, or anything like that?”_  
“No!”  
Yes. 

“ _Are you dying?”_

“Are you dying?”

Indeed he was, as the pain was gone, and the heavy weight of his body was no more. However, dying was the wrong word to describe the kind of state he was in now. Perhaps dead would be more fitting. And as much as he hated to admit it, or tried his best not to acknowledge it, his back was pressed against the wall, and the doctors slaved away at a body-a maimed, bloody body-in the center of the room.

The body was his, and the line thing that monitored his heart was in straight, horizontal line.

Out of his body, his sensitivity to the emotions swirling around the room was intense. He could feel the despair, and the hopelessness emitting from the surgeons.

Their commands were falling mute on their mouths, their actions were sluggish, and filled with little to no determination.

They knew he was dead.

“Are you dying? Because I think you're playing the game just a _tincy_ bit badly,” came the deep, thick coated Russian voice, “Wouldn't you say Akihito.”   
The former photographer looked towards his side, where a taller, more built figure stood against the wall. Curly coils of hair fell down as the older men bent down in order to get better look at his godson, and bright blue eyes brighter than the sun itself shone at Takaba, and the photographer somehow figured this was it.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, “No, I’m not playing the game badly, Dmitri. I fucked up the game.”

“Such harsh language, you certainly aren't a child anymore, are you Akihito?”   
The photographer didn't answer, and instead, observed the doctors as they finally decided to throw in the towel. 

Akihito felt lighter. 

He looked up towards the door where his friends stood, and nearly passed out (was it even possible) as Asami's dark figure stood very close to his dead body, his back obscuring his friend's view. Asami looked shocked-in fact, he looked livid. 

And from the sheer amount of rage, despair and anger pulsating off of him, Akihito could tell that the older man's walls were crumbling. 

The pain was too great to handle, and Akihito found himself looking away, but even as he tore his gaze away, the pain was destroying him. 

He doubled over as he held a hand to his chest, “Dmitri...what the hell, I thought it didn't hurt.”   
“True, Akihito, being _dead_ and _dying_ don't hurt-”   
At that moment, a short women, dressed in surgeons attire came in the room at an incredible speed. Behind her, a small team of doctors stormed in. Quickly, she began calling out commands, and immediately, began her own work on him. 

Asami was too stunned to move, so quickly, Kou and Takato grabbed him by the arms, and pulled him back. 

As the agony went away , a jolt went through the transparent Akihito. Dmitri smiled as he looked a the woman operate so skillfully on the bodt, “She's really trying, can you feel the determination leaking off of her?” 

Another jolt, and Akihito could feel the feeling returning to his body. 

“She hasn't lost a patient in a while,” complimented Dmitri with such admiration, as he began his stride towards her, “Amazing, isn't it?”   
“Yeah, I guess. But you sound like a stalker. What are you, a guardian angel?”   
“No, I’m her late husband. It's a shame you don't remember her,” sighed the Russian man, “But you were so young.” 

Another jolt, and Akihito could hear his heartbeat ringing through his ears. 

“You're getting another chance,” said Dmitri as he walked back to the wall “Do you want it?” 

Akhito cast a quizzical glance towards his godfather, “I have a choice?”   
Dmitri nodded. 

“B-but I thought it was set in stone,” stuttered the photographer, “I didn't think we had a choice.”   
“Believe me, we do,” Dmitri smiled, “We just have to have something worth fighting for, and we have to fight our hardest.”   
Akihito sighed, “Than I might as well chose death,” his heartbeat faded , and fell mute on his ears, “It's not like I have anything to return to.”   
Dmitri giggled and looked at Takaba in disbelief, “You've a family.”   
Chuckling sadly, Akihito shook his head, “I have divorce papers that need to be signed, I’m sure of it.”   
“Perhaps,” admitted Dmitri, “or perhaps you have another chance to start over.” 

“Than this would be the second time I started over with him,” hissed Akihito, allowing his anger to get to him, “I'm tired of it, he's probably just upset that he can't trap me again! Yeah, my friends will be sad, but at least I won't be a burden to them or anything like that, at least they can forget about me. Dmitri, I have _nothing_ to lose if I just die, I really don't!” 

Silence ensued, and Akihito felt himself lighter than a grain of salt. He looked at his hands, and gasped when he could see straight through them. 

“They always say that, “You don't know what you've lost until it's gone,” and before I died, I couldn't agree more. You see, growing up in rich family in Russia, I lost a lot without thinking much of it while I had it. So that phrase meant a lot me,” the older man continued, “and then I went to Asia, and met my wife. I swore to myself I would never take her for granted, so if I did have to leave, I would do so without forgetting her worth. And when I did die, I realized that I hadn't exactly lost anything, because losing is accidental. I gave it up. I gave _her_ up, because I thought without me being sick and always a burden to her, that she could move on. I did it for her own good, yet it was one of the worse choices I made.” 

“Akihito, I know that he-” he pointed towards Asami, “May not be the best choice now, but you're being given a second chance for a reason...are you willing to give it up for him? You have much to live for.” 

Akihito closed his eyes as they burned behind the lids with tears. “Damn it Dmitri, what if it all comes crumbling down? What if I try to do this again, and end up failing?”   
Dmitri shrugged, “That's why it's so risky.”  
As the Russian finished his sentence, a brilliant light shone above them. Dmitri smiled, but Akihito did not. 

“Is this the part where I follow the light?” Asked the photographer, as he shielded his gaze from the blinding white, “Did I run out of time? Am I really going to die?”   
Dmitri smiled, and ruffled his godson on the head. Suddenly, Akihito was on the white hill again, staring down at the basin of snow. 

“ _Die? Of course not, boy! To die means the end of everything-As you kids like to call it nowadays “game over”. No, your game will not be over, let's just say it's paused,”_ Smiled Dmitri, “But wait too long, and the battery will run out. Tell me Aki!” 

Dmitri's voice was louder as it bounced off of the walls, “What do you have to live for?”   
A single tear spilled from Akihito's eye, “Nothing, I guess. But I suppose dying would mean losing to those brats all over again, wouldn't it? And maybe I could start over with someone else...maybe the answer isn't Asami.”  
Dmitri's laugh filled the corridor, “Good boy! Now go, and fight it! Fight it harder then you ever have before!” 

“What do you mea-” Like an old fish hook lodging itself into Akihito's back, the photographer was hauled into the air, and quickly being dragged into the light. 

“D-Dmirti! Help!”

From the ground, the Russian man smiled, “I cannot help you now Akihito, you're battling with angels now. This is your fight.”  
“B-but how-” 

_Please don't toss my heart around like that anymore._

His heart began to beat, and the bloody noise filled his head once again. The pull of the Heaven relinquished just a bit. 

“ _ _No, of course not Akihito. I don't think you're understanding me correctly. I was unsure of what we felt, I did not want to label it in fear of internal weakness...I did not want to fall in love with you.”__

Pain unlike any other radiated through his body, and like a bag full of lead, he came plummeting down toward his body. 

“ _ _Marry me?”__

_ He felt almost human, yet he felt more closer to death than he had before. The machines around him rang with fury, and Akihito saw his chest rise and fall as his body gasped for air. He felt himself being full of life.  _

_ Dmitri smiled, and the light began to engulf him.  _

_“ I'll see you soon, Aki,” cooed his godfather, “but hopefully not too soon. Oh, and one more thing...” _

_ The older man's words were nothing more than a whisper on Akihito's ears, yet he found himself fighting to hear the aged voice one last time.  _

_“ Yes!” Screamed Akihito, as his soul was dragged into oblivion, “What is it!?” _

_“ Tell Hatsu to move on,” advised the older man, “We had a lot of fun together, and I loved every second of it. But it's time she had a little more fun, with someone else.” _

_“ I-I won't forget, I promise!” _

_ Dmitri nodded, and a look of sadness fell about him, “I am going to miss you. You truly are an impressive boy. Keep on taking pictures, and remember, it's never game over!” Now the older man yelled to his godson, as the light bore down on his entire body “You're just pausing it, or going to the next level!  _ __Poka!”_ _

At his godfather's exit, Akihito gasped for breath, and the surgeons gasped in amazement. 

 

  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polka is informal Russian for goodbye.   
> I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and a small excerpt from my OC Dmitri and my sister's Hatsumomo. Also, I hope you didn't mind the bit with Fei Long, i've always thought of the two of them to be friends or acquaintances. Sigh...Fifa is just disappointing at the moment...everyone I wanted to win is just losing. Btw, I'm going to be working on Gone, Demon in teh Viewfinder, and another story, so hopefully they'll be posted later this week. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, have a wonderful week, and God bless!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been finding it hard to write much of anything now a days.

Photography was out, for good. The doctor's told him to forget about it completely. He supposed that it didn't matter much anymore though, his camera had been destroyed at the scene.

Walking was almost out as well. Major bones had been broken, tendons had been torn and muscles had been shredded. However, there was rehab if he could afford it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When he first awoke, his room was full of cards, gifts and flowers.

The cards and gifts had been from his friends. The flowers, however, had not been. He knew this because they were tulips, and tulips where Akihito's _favorite_ type of flower. However, a favorite type of flower was something discussed between boys like Takato and Kou.

His favorite type of flower was something known only to Asami.

Had he had the strength, he supposed he would have taken the flowers and thrown them out of the window. Anything Asami related made him sick to his stomach.

During visiting hours, his friends would keep him company in the hospital. And though Takato had been advised not to, he had brought his daughters to the hospital so they could see Akihito anyway.

They made him happy, just a little though. It was better than the silence that seemed to plague his thoughts. It gave him time to think. Think about his life and what he would do with it now. Think about his disabilities and his job. Think about Asami...

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He didn't feel like himself anymore. There were strong drugs being pumped throughout his entire body, his head felt full of water, and his body radiated with a sort of numb sensation every time he tried to move. His diet consisted of some strange, liquid substance that was given to him through an IV attached to his wrist.

If he wanted to move around, he had to do so in a wheel chair. X-rays were a daily occurrence, followed by long periods of unconsciousness or incredible weakness.

As if he himself hadn't been screwed with enough, his friends had gone behind his back and contacted his family.

That was the last thing Akihito wanted, to drag his family into this mess. And behind his back, his friends had done just that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

For a family that was composed of nine children, any sensible being would find it reasonable to believe that secrets spread like wildfire. One brother's darkest secrets was the center of his sister's gossip or vice-versa.

Secrecy was nearly impossible to achieve. And when a young Cho Takaba had been taken in by the wonderful, very large, very eccentric Takaba family, he learned to keep his mouth shut if he wanted to maintain any ounce of sanity.

In fact, he just didn't speak. Though most of the reasoning for that lay with the fact that he couldn't communicate in their language. He spoke Cantonese. However, by age ten he could juggle English, Cantonese, Mandarin _and_ Japanese. Cho mastered Spanish throughout grade school.

However, back to the point. It wasn't until his very large, very extended family decided to adopt another child, who was one year younger than Cho, that the boy decided to start trying to communicate.

Perhaps it their closeness in age, or the small blond child's tendency to be just as silent as Cho, but the two soon learned to confide within one another. With the little English that small Cho could understand, the two would talk about anything that crossed their minds.

When English became too tough for Cho, the blond child would begin to speak in Japanese. Just anything that could be used for means of communication. They tried not to keep secrets from one another.

With that being said, Cho was a little more than surprised when he received the grim news regarding his brother's state from a nervous Kou. Apparently Aki had been involved in a really bad accident .

“Where was Asami?” Cho asked.

“...”

“Kou-”

“They're kinda not together anymore...Asami kicked him out.”

From the very moment that Akihito had introduced his family to Asami as his fiance, Cho had very many doubts about the man. First off, he had been married, got the chick pregnant with twins, and ended the relationship in a heart beat. Afterward, the man suddenly decided that he wanted Akihito back.

Like always, Akihito refused to listen to his family's concerns, and tied the knot with the man anyway. So Cho supposed that this grim news he had received over the phone was what Akihito deserved for jumping the broom without a seconds thought. He supposed he should just leave his secretive brother to rot in his own grief.

At least it would teach him a lesson or two. But than again, Akihito was never good at listening. Not even when he should have been listening to himself.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

After visiting hours, Asami came to keep Akihito company. The older man would pull up a chair next to Akihito's bed. He would sit there, and speak to him all through the night.

He would apologize, or would give him updates on what was happening around him. Sometimes he would compliment his looks despite the bandages an scars that were on his body.

He'd kiss him too. Sometimes on the cheek, or on his neck, and on rare occasions, he would kiss him on his lips.

And though conscience, and fully aware of what was happening, Akihito would keep to himself and try his best to ignore any sort of contact from Asami.

He would stare straight ahead into the dimly lit room, whose walls were illuminated by the rays of moonlight that poured in through the blinds. He would concentrate on the rays, he would watch them melt into the darkness.

Next, he would concentrate on his heart rate, which grew with Asami's presence. He would try to calm himself down, and try to even out the panting in his hollow chest.

Asami watched him like a vulture, yet refused to pick off of his lifelessness.

Asami was no fool. He knew what his rejection had put Akihito through. He knew what his mistrust had put Akihito through.

As of now, the silence was the least of his worries though.

The photographer had been hurt beyond repair, and he was patiently waiting for the divorce that he wanted.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The children had confessed long before the accident. Asami had forced it out of them.

Even though the evidence had been put against Akihito, he just couldn't believe that Takaba was capable of hurting someone so thoughtlessly, especially not a child. He had to send the photographer out to clear his head, he needed to work this out. When his son came crying to him, he supposed his parental side took over, and he was slightly more harsh to Takaba than he should have been.

He tried to make excuses. He told himself that things had been leading up to this, that Akihito's tolerance had been running low for a long time. So it just made perfect sense, yet it didn't. It wasn't in Akihito's nature to hurt others like he'd done to the twins, yet Asami had seen the calmest individuals break under terrible circumstances.

However, what kind of “terrible circumstances” was Akihito being put though?

He had been complaining since Asami first introduced the children into his life, and Asami just ignored him. He figured time would do it's job and work things out.

But it didn't, and Asami was a fool to think it would.

 

It was easy to get the truth out of them. They were children, and tricking them into getting the answers he needed was no tough task for Asami. He was impressed by their well thought out, and executed plan. However, the two underestimated Akihito's love for them. They never expected him to use force against one in order to save the other.

When asked why they did it, they said because they wanted their mother back.

Asami had simply told them that she wasn't coming back, that she didn't love them, and that Takaba was the best bet of a parent they ever would have had and they just ruined it.

They looked crushed, literally. They looked as if Asami had just thrown a thousand burning bricks atop of their heads. He told them not to cry in front of him, that he was too disgusted to see them for much longer. They looked shocked, and not surprisingly, unwanted. Very unwanted.

At the moment, he didn't care how they felt or looked.

They deserved it, they made Akihito's life a living hell.

 

He froze Akihito's account after he withdrew a hefty some from it. Asami didn't want Akihito leaving Japan, and with no money, there would be no way to leave. Countless times, Asami had considered forcing Akihito back into the penthouse like he'd done so many time before, however, he figured things were different now. The circumstances weren't the same, and he refused to drag Akihito back into a hell hole for his own pleasure.

For once in his life, Asami was content with letting Akihito go. It hurt, the pain hurt more than anything he have ever imagined, yet Asami figured it was time to “grow up”.

If Akihito wanted to come back, he would. Asami wasn't forcing him into a corner anymore.

He was married to him. He wasn't his warden.

However, he never expected Akihito to randomly throw himself in front of an assassin, nor did he expect him to push his kids out of the way. He really didn't expect him to get run over by the assassin either. But it happened, it _all_ happened.

 

Asami's heart had been beating so fast that until the surgeons had declared Akihito stable, Asami wasn't even certain that he had a heart left. And if he did have a heart, he felt like throwing it up when the surgeons told him that Akihito wasn't going to make it.

But the photographer proved them wrong though, he managed to pull through.

 

Despite their screwed up relationship, Asami was just happy to have Akihito alive. But that didn't last for long. With each passing hour that Akihito spent in the hospital, healing and recovering, Asami yearned to be near him again. He told himself that he would leave him alone, that if Akihito wanted things to be back to normal, than he would make the first move.

But patience when it came to Akihito was never Asami's strong point.

 

He decorated the room in tulips. They were Akihito's favorite type of flower, and though they were incredibly hard to come by, he managed to get a good deal on imported ones. He knew Akihito wouldn't be pleased to see them in the room. In fact, he probably wanted to avoid anything “Asami” related within ten feet of him, but Asami still loved Akihito more than anything. He still wanted to be with him.

 

Asami supposed that he _should_ have expected the first words to come out of Akihito's mouth to be about the kids and their well being, but the photographer's selflessness still managed to take Asami by surprise.

He asked about them after a week of silence. His voice was so quiet and so void of emotion, that Asami wasn't even certain that it was Akihito who was speaking.

“How are the twins...are they...you know, okay?” He repeated the question with more volume for Asami, as the older man hadn't responded the first time.

“They're...” Asami was taken aback, he really had no idea what to say.

Akihito made an impatient noise, “They're what Asami? Okay? Upset? Angry? How are they?”

The photographer was doing a great job at keeping his anger in check.

“They're okay.” Asami responded quickly, “Thank you for asking.”

“...Better than me, huh?”

Asami chuckled, “I think just about everyone is better than you, physically at least.”

“That's good to hear.”

“I-I'm just glad it was me and not them...but I suppose you'll have to be more careful around them. You've got a lot of enemies, you know. You can't just take them out into public and expect things to be “okay”, people want you dead,” breathed Akihito, “Your enemies will attack what's dear to you.”

“You know that more than anyone, don't you Akihito?”

“Well, I'm no longer that “dear” to you, your kids are. You and me are over, we tried to make it work...it just didn't. Marry a woman or something, they want their mother...”

Asami sighed, “I told them she's not coming back.”   
Akihito turned to Asami, “Why would you do that? You weren't mean about it, were you?”

“...”

“ _Asami!”_

“They're old enough to know the truth-” 

“What did you tell them?”   
“Akihito, calm dow-” 

“ _What_ did you tell them?” 

“...” 

There was a pregnant pause, and the look on Asami's face said it all. 

“Fuck Asami, you're the biggest asshole i've ever met,” snapped Akihito, “Tell them your sorry, and than the three of you can just leave me alone!” 

“You still care about them, yet you want us to leave you alone?” 

“Can you blame me?” He croaked, “Maybe if you believe me and disciplined your children-”   
The door swung open, and in the threshold, stood a very pissed off looking Chinese man. He wore a plaid shirt, and some worn out jeans. Beneath the pants were boots, on their heels, spurs. 

Takaba sighed, and Cho walked in.

“Visiting hours, Mr. Asami,” he inclined his head towards the golden eyed man, “Were up four hours ago.”

Asami narrowed his eyes, “Than may I ask what business you have with Akihito?” 

“Besides the fact that I’m his brother and have an actual right to be here, my parents are on the phone and they want to speak to him. I suggest you leave, Mr. Asami, because if they find out that you're in here, they won't be to happy.” True to his word, Cho had a cellphone in his hand. The caller ID was labeled “Mommy's Work”, and the mute button had been pressed. 

Cho looked at Takaba, “Mary is raising hell in the waiting room. Mommy isn't happy, _at all._ Neither is Dad, you have five minutes to convince them to stay away from Japan, because they're-” The young Chinese man turned towards Asami, “Go! Why are you still here-”

“Cho, it's okay, give me the phone. Asami go, please...and don't come back tomorrow. Apologize to your kids, than you can come back, but after that, we're done...okay, it's better for all of us. Tell them I’m sorry that I wasn't who they needed.”

Asami closed his eyes and stood, “No Akihito, you were more than they ever needed. We were just to blind-”

“Go!” Any sentimental, loving crap that Asami intended to spew on Takaba had been cut short by Cho who bore an even shorter fuse.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write a chapter with Asami in it. I originally wanted to make this chapter longer, but I decided against it. I find it fitting that Akihito feels concerned about the kids, because he does love them. He doesn't have time for self pity, not yet. Like I said, it's just been very hard for me to write as of recent. Hopefully you all like this chapter. It's a little rushed, and I'm sorry, I really am! Anyway, tell me what you think, have a nice week, and God bless.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! That took ages to finally write, I must admit it grew very tiresome! But I'm happy with what I've got so far. I hope you enjoy, and do tell me what you think.   
> Also, I don't own the VF.

He felt like he was walking on an electrified floor. Every step sent tiny shocks up his feet and throughout his legs, making them wobbly and unstable. Like a tiny deer, he struggled to stay standing. He held his breath, stiffened his body and tried his best to balance himself. But every single attempt saw him tumbling to the ground face first.

Sometimes, if he hit his head hard enough, at the right angle, he suffered from a temporary black out, or his waking time was slightly delayed. When he came back, his vision was fuzzy and out of focus. There were times when he'd just lay there with his head turned sideways on the cool wooden floor of his room, just squinting his eyes and trying to make out the images of his bedroom.

Then he would see it. Large and black, sort of metallic and worn out. The former photographer would force his hand to grab the dark object, only to recoil his limb when he realized exactly what he'd fallen next to.

His wheelchair had a funny way of reminding him that he would most likely never be able to walk again if he couldn't afford the rehab. But he forced himself to look away from it and to bite back the fear of being a cripple.

He was fully aware that he had no means to pay for any sort of rehab or surgery, that his only chance of walking again lay within his willpower and determination. But with each fall, the bruises began to accumulate into large masses of dark purple on his body. The physical pain he suffered each day in his endeavor to walk had added a burning fuel to the mental anguish he was already suffering.

Takaba was losing his cool, he was losing himself.

His determination was burning away like cooling embers. The fear, as far as he pushed it away, was all too real. He felt trapped, like a sailor bound to the ocean floor because his foot was wedged under a rock. The water was intoxicating, it was dark and unpleasant.

He was drowning in it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A middle aged women bounced around his tiny kitchen. Pots and pans clanged up against one another as the tan woman crouched onto the ground, and ran her hand through the floor cabinets. Her long hair fell to the ground as she tilted her head just enough to look into the unorganized abyss of mismatched pots.

“Organize Aki's kitchen.” She muttered to herself as she moved a sweaty strand of hair out of her face, “That will have to be next on the agenda.”

By the time she actually found what she was looking for, an out pour of pots had flooded onto the wooden floor, and Mrs. Takaba panted as she surveyed the mess around her.

With her lips pressed together in a tight line, and the one pot she was looking for tight in her hand, the woman stood up and walked over to the stove.

The mess had unnerved her somewhat, but with a whip of her thick hair, she manged to push back her irritation. After she was done placing the pot on the smooth stove surface, she stood on her toes and opened the cabinets above.

A flood of boxes fell onto her head, spices and powders followed in suit.

“S-Shit—Achoo!”

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He was surprised that the noise his mother had managed to accumulate in his kitchen hadn't yet awoken the dead. But certainly her loud footsteps fast approaching his room would.

In seconds, his mother would walk into his room, completely unannounced and uninvited, see him sprawled out on the floor, and have another fuss.

He figured that had his life been a movie, that this moment would be the grand, spectacular moment when he, as the main character, finally filled himself with enough courage and will power and would miraculously stand up and wall—sightly wobbly though—around the room. His mother would be happy, he would be happy....but he wasn't in a movie.

And he hardly had the willpower at the moment. _Ahh, fuck it.._ and with that, the door opened. 

“Akihito, I raised you better than that. You know what I’m talking about too, your kitchen is rid-why on earth are you on the floor!?” She fell to her knees before him. Her long hair flailed behind her, like some sort of dark veil.

Before he could even speak, her arms were under his, and with all the weight she could muster, she placed him back onto his wheelchair.

By now, her hands were on her knees, and she panted like some old dog. Her shoulders fell and stiffened with every breath she took.

“Sorry...about the kitchen,” he apologized silently, “I just haven't had the time to organize it lately.”

“Obviously,” she breathed as she stood to full height, “but perhaps you could have organized it before this entire....entire

“Ordeal?” Supplied her son.

“Yes, that's right, ordeal,” she repeated, “Just...why don't you come to the kitchen with me, it's a little lonely up there.”   
Takaba shrugged, “I guess.”

His mother smiled, ran behind him, and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair. She could see the despair in her son's body language.

“Hey, Aki” she began, as she pushed him through the hallway, “Don't feel bad about this okay, _most_ of it isn't your fault.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Right, most of it.”

Whenever his mother asked for company, she usually meant the physical presence of someone in the same room with her. No speaking, no conversation, nothing. It had been like this for as long as he could remember, thought at times it had certainly been more enjoyable.

She would cook and sing traditional Hawaiian songs to herself as she chopped up ingredients and scrapped them into a pan. When she was really into what she was doing, she'd twirl her hips like a hula dancer, and skip from place to place like a fairy.

Though Takaba never understood the language, he loved to listen along. He was sure that it was something family oriented, his mother loved the family very much. Though Akihito often wondered if adopting nine additional children, including himself, was a waste.

If she never adopted him, she wouldn't be here in his kitchen right now, cooking him some sort of lunch while stepping over the large mess of pots that had fallen onto the ground. She wouldn't have to fly from America to Japan in order to aid her crippled son.

He looked at the pans on the floor. He had no doubt that his mother would busy herself with them later during the day, in fact, she'd probably busy herself in the entire kitchen. The place was totally unorganized.

Yet she was already doing so much for him.

With a fair amount of strength, he pushed himself off of his wheelchair and onto the kitchen floor. The pots were in arms reach, as were the cabinets. If he crawled forward, just slightly, he'd be able to put them back into the cabinets in an organized manor.

The pain from the bruises slowed him down considerably, and with each crawl, a searing sensation tore through his limbs.

“Aki? Aki, where did you go?”

 _Dammit,_ He cursed to himself his mother ran to the other side of the table. She too fell to her knees, “Aki, you fell! We'll-”   
“I'm doing something,” it was silent at first, strained and dry of any emotion, “Just let me do this.”   
Mrs. Takaba brought a hand to the bridge of her nose and pinched, “Aki, it's not safe. You can hurt yourself, just let me help you up.” 

Tiny arms wrapped around his chest, and once again, his mother began to lift him, but he stiffened considerably.

“Akihito, stop this,” she raised her voice just slightly, “Look! You're bruising already—wait—that's impossible. Aki why do you already have bruises-you've been trying to walk again, haven't you?”  
It was awkward, the entire situation was awkward. His mother's tiny body was pressed against his back with her arms embracing her chest. Her hair fell into his face now, and the feeling of her breast crushed against his back was starting to get very, very creepy. 

“Mom...um...this is uncomfortable,” he stated bluntly, “Please let me go.”

“Then let us pay for your surgery,” She replied with the same blunt tone, “If you want to walk so badly, we could work something out.”

Takaba sighed, “Then I guess we'll just stay like this for ever because you and dad aren't paying for me.”

Mrs. Takaba rolled her eyes, “Why is that Aki? Why? We love you, you're our son! Do you think we enjoy seeing you like this?”   
“Mom-”   
“God you're being so stubborn,” the Hawaiian woman grip tightened around the young man, “Just like you were being  _that_ time!” 

“What time?” He hissed as he looked up at her.

“Akihito you know exactly what I’m talking about!”

The blond felt like screaming, pulling his hair out, or something!

“Do you think I _knew_ Asami's kids would turn out to be little vindictive brats?” He snapped, “I was just as obvl-”   
“No-no, Aki had you listened to us, had you not married that man to begin this, then none of this would have happened!” 

“Ugh!” Takaba let himself fall to the ground, followed by his mother who fell atop of him, “No one told you that you had to come here to watch me, no one told you that you even had to care!”   
Mrs. Takaba stood up and crossed her arms, “We're your parents Akihito, we _do_ care!” 

Takaba inhaled sharply. Ever since his failed relationship with Asami, it was hard for him to believe that people actually did care for him. He believed himself to be a burden to anyone and everyone.

The tension itself had sizzled down slightly, and a hard silence befell mother and son. With a sigh, she wriggled herself off of him, stood up and crossed her arms.

“It's impossible for me not to be pissed at you, Aki,” huffed his mother, as she lowered her voice “but we'll support you, even if that means not paying for your surgery! But keep in mind, we don't like it! And if you weren't twenty four, then we-”

There was a gurgling, as Akihito's once still figure lay trembling on the floor. He bit his lip to keep him from sobbing loudly, and clenched his fist on the ground tightly. His breathing was ragged and uneven. Hot tears managed to force their way through his sealed eyelids.

“I-I'm sorry,” he spoke, barely above a whisper, “I'm sorry that I put you all through this.” He wasn't just sorry for the entire Asami accident, he was sorry for being adopted by them.

Mrs. Takaba understood that. And now, it was his mother's turn to cry.

Slowly, very slowly, she fell to her knees. Her tiny hands grabbed her son's pale wrist, and she squeezed them as hard as she could.

She felt like a failure more than Akihito did. It was a mother's job to protect her children, and though Akihito was old enough to live on his own, the mere thought of anyone hurting him was enough to set her hairs standing on her back.

“Don't be,” she whispered back, as she placed her head atop of his, “I'd do it a million times again if I had to,” she began with a shaky voice, “Everything Akihito, I’d do everything.”   
There was a period of small sniffles, and quiet shuffles as she maneuvered her son's head into her lap. Tan fingers traced through his silky blond hair, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like a little boy again.

He felt as if nothing could harm him anymore, as if his mother's arms were the safest place in the world. And he loved that feeling.

His mother's body was warm against his, and her arms wrapped firmly around him felt like a protective cage. The tears were still there, yes, but they were slowly being soaked up within the fabric of his mother's clothing.

“I-I saw Dmitri,” Takaba spoke in the softness of the moment. His mother's breathing stopped shortly, but resumed.

“You did?” She spoke to him curiously, as a mother spoke to her seven year old son when he told her he had an imaginary friend, “What did he say?”

Takaba shrugged, “Too much.”

 

Mr. Takaba arrived soon after the ordeal between mother and son. His rusty red hair was unkempt, his suit jacked slung over his shoulder, and his tie slightly undone. With sigh, he removed his shoes at the door, and stepped over the mat.

“Honey, I'm home,” he rehearsed the common greeting, “Has Akihito come down to-”   
He stopped suddenly, when he noticed both his wife and his son on the kitchen floor, embracing tightly. Holding his breath, the oldest Takaba backed up slowly, and surely, the silence resumed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The following weeks consisted of Akihito's friends and family taking him all over Japan, and doing anything they could to keep his optimism up. The doctor had warned them all that he may be suicidal, as he was living completely opposite of how he used to live.

And he _loved_ how he used to live.

Whenever they took him out, his friends could sometimes see the hint of jealousy in his dark irises, as children in the park would run around, chasing kites and balls. He would look at their legs, their youthful, _working_ legs, and the fists on his lap would clench just slightly, and his eyes would darken just a little bit.

“Hey Aki! Why don't we go get a bite to eat, I’ll treat you!” Kou would use the same distraction in order to break his friend's acute observations. Akihito mostly didn't answer.

 

There were times when he would try to ignore his disability, times when he'd force himself to stand up and walk the extra feet to get to the restroom on his own, or walk down the long hallway to get to the kitchen and cook—which he loved doing—or when he'd use the smooth walls as a prime mean of support in his journey to check to mail.

But he would stumble. Sometimes his friend's would be there to catch him, other times, they wouldn't. When he was alone, he would tumble hard, incredibly hard. Any random stranger in the streets of Tokyo would assume that Akihito was in some sort of abusive relationship with the sheer amount of bruises he'd accumulated on his body.

Soon, there was talk of him seeing a psychiatrist, as the doctor's feared that he purposely trying to bruise himself.

But he declined.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They set up “base” atop of a hill, where a large tree hung above head, shielding them from the searing rays of the sun. Cho and Mary had tagged along with Kou, Takato and his youngest daughter as they all prepared a picnic due to the nice weather.

Mary and Cho had been extremely busy in Japan. Cho worked primarily in America around the Southern states, where he was competitive in agriculture and farming. Calling his workers and farm hands to ensure the safety of his land while in Japan was incredibly tedious.

Mary had shifted gears from teaching in American schools, to working in a Japanese school system. Her father was Japanese and worked hard in Japan, while her mother was Cuban, though she worked in America. She wanted to shift her Japanese routs, and already being fluent in the language, teaching Japanese school children would be no bother to her.

Takato's tiny daughter sat snugly in Akihito's lap as he sat against the large oak tree. His hands wrapped securely around her soft stomach, and he closed his eyes as a cool breeze swept through the area. His friends had already begun putting out food on the large blanket that they'd brought with them.

“We brought sushi!” Chimed Cho, as he took the box out of the bag, “You can have as much as you wan-”   
“Just don't eat too much!” Interrupted the dark skinned girl, “Too much isn't too healthy, especially since you've not been eating.”

Akihito nodded as Takato's daughter gripped his fingers and played with the joints, “I'm not really hungry anyway...but the sun exposure is nice.”

Takaba's fingers were suddenly soaked in saliva as the small girl began to chew the thin digits.

“Honey! No!” Cried Takato as he crawled over to his daughter, “Akihito isn't food!” At her senseless chewing, something very rare happened.   
Takaba laughed a genuine laugh. It was the kind of laugh that he friend’s hadn't heard from him in ages. The kind of laugh that caused the one laughing to squint their eyes extremely tight, as their smile stretched from one ear to the other.

It was a laugh of true happiness.

Even Takato stopped midway in his crawl, his one arm outstretched as he made to reach his daughter remained frozen in the air. The piece of fruit that had been in Kou's mouth seconds ago, fell onto the blanket as a result of his jaw dropping expression.

Mary and Cho exchanged glances, and couldn't contain the goofy smiles that were growing on their faces.

“It's okay!” Takaba's lively voice rang out, as he fought to catch his breath, “she's no trying to eat me, at least I don't think! Maybe she's just hungry!”   
“Y-yeah,” Takato withdrew his hand, and searched for something and edible on the blanket, “She's probably just hungry!”

After a while of searching, Takato found a bag of tiny yogurt snacks, and handed to Takaba to give to the tiny, pink clad girl in his lap.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
They talked for a long time, and had gotten through most of the food in a little over an hour. Takaba had laid on his side, followed by the mini-Takato, who'd plopped down beside him.

Presently, his friend's had uncovered the wheelchair which had been hidden behind the tree, and had taken it out and inspected it's mechanics.

“Could go pretty fast if release the break,” murmured Kou, who looked at the large piece of metal.

“Only thing,” added Cho, “We couldn't stop it if it went to fast, would throw us right off. You'd have to jump off at the right moment.”   
They all nodded.

“What are you guys trying to do with the wheelchair?” Asked Takaba curiously.

“We wanna ride down the hill,” Spoke Cho, casually, “I'm looking for a sort of thrill.”

Takaba rolled his eyes, “So you can end up in a wheelchair too? I don't think so, it's a stupid idea!”

“We've worked out all the mechanics,” came Mary from the other side of the chair, “At least they have, it's not like I’m riding anyway.”   
“Yeah, we're just watching,” Takato said, “And pushing.”   
Takaba rolled his eyes and closed them, “Just don't break it, and don't kill yourselves, okay?”

With eager and skeptical nods all in one, the quartette all ran towards the wheelchair, chose their designated rider, and the insanity ensued.   
  
Takaba closed his eyes, an brought Takato's daughter closer to him, “We're lucky we're not them, huh?”

She snuggled into his chest, and grabbed his fingers tightly.

“Though it would be fun to run and jump again, huh?” He mused sadly, as his eyes began to close, “Just one more picture...that's all I really want.”

There was a silence, and then footsteps, and then a pause. Akihito figured one of his friends had climbed back up the hill as a result of their failed experiment.   
“Then why not pursue the rehabilitation surgery?”

The photographer's eyes snapped open in an instant. Even the small child beside him had wriggled herself from her comfortable position, and looked up at the man standing behind them. Takaba wanted to turn around, he wanted to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, or that he wasn't going insane. But he wouldn't give Asami the satisfaction.

“W-What are you doing here?” Aside from his nervous stuttering toward the beginning of his sentence, he made sure that the rest of his phrase was as emotionless as possible.

“Trying to knock some sense into you,” spoke Asami, as he leaned against the tree. Takaba could smell the earthy smell of cigarette smoke invading the crisp air around him.

“How so?” Replied the photographer, seemingly uninterested.

Asami sighed, “I've been keeping an eye on you, Akihito,” He breathed, “You're miserable.”   
Takaba laughed a heartless laugh, “And that bothers you?”

“Are you surprised? You're aware of my feelings for you, are you not?” Spoke Asami through the smoke, “It is you whose putting a wedge between our relationship.”   
Takaba's eye twitched, and had there not been a small child right beside him, he would have spewed out a string of curse words.   
“Yes, of course, everything is my fault,” he breathed.

“I didn't say that,” responded Asami, “In fact, I take back my previous statement.”

Takaba raised an eyebrow. This was new.

“Well, serves you right...goodbye then,” he ended the pointless conversation very quickly.

“No, not yet,” came Asami's cool voice, “Not until you agree to get the surgery.”

Now Takaba fought the urge to look at Asami, because the tone of the older man's voice suggested genuine concern. Takaba didn't want to be given false hope, he didn't want to fall for Asami all over again.

“Why the fuc-Why does it matter to you,” he hissed like a serpent, “I'm out of you and your kids life, isn't that what you wanted? You're not happy?”

“I would never be happy until you were happy, Akihito” admitted the older man, “And being confined to a wheelchair is not making you happy. Jumping off a building and taking photos of things you have no business photographing, however, does make you happy.”

Takaba smiled at Asami's recollection of the past, “You really do care, don't you?”   
The cool breeze brushed through the area once more. The trees hummed as the flaky leaves rubbed against one another, and the grass chimed as the air maneuvered its way through the green blades. Asami allowed a cloud of smoke to be carried into the invisible current.

“Get the surgery, and you'll never have to see me again. I just can't bear to see you suffer anymore,” he spoke as if the weight of the world had lodged itself atop of his shoulder, “Not for me. I'll pay for it, so that your family doesn't have to. ”

He sounded tired, incredibly tired. Maybe even exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

And against his better judgment, Takaba chanced a look at the older man.

It was a mistake. The life that used to illuminate Asami, the power and the authority seemed to be drifting away with the breeze, gone with the cool wind.

His eyes were gaunt, his skin pale. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, like the cigarettes had been his only source of nutrients. Akihito cursed himself for caring, yet this “new” Asami unsettled him slightly.

“Yeah,” he managed, not entirely sure of what he was saying, or what he was agreeing to, “I'll...I'll get the surgery.”

Asami smiled, and ran a hand through his graying hair, “Thank you.”   
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He simply told he family and friends that he was indeed getting the surgery, and that the cost of it were being handled personally. He didn't give them a real explanation, just asked them to take him to the hospital and come back after the surgery was finished.

It was supposed to be a few hours, but finished after three. His family wouldn't be with him for another two, which left him groggy, and rehabilitating in the hospital room.

He was being pumped full of drugs, and he nearly felt as if his back just didn't exist anymore. Every now and then, a nurse would come in and check his IV, and even trace her finger along his back just to make sure things were in the right place.

There would be times when he was alone, though he didn't mind that too much, he was tired anyway. Sleeping didn't do much harm, in fact, it didn't do any harm.

So he began to drift off into his own, personal dreamland.

That is until he saw _them._

Tiny, with jet black hair, and bright golden eyes, the Asami twins stood next to his bed, staring up at his broken form.

They were nervous, very nervous. The sensation leaked off of them like the sweat began to leak off of Akihito. What was he supposed to say to them? What would he say to them?

In all honesty, he had _a lot_ to say, but figured it wasn't worth it to make these two brats cry. He'd protected them from being killed after they made his life a living hell.

Why they were here, or how they got here was beyond Akihito, and he thought that maybe their presence beside his bed was an awful effect of his medication.

Yes, that's what it was. If he slept, surely, they'd be gone when he awoke.

And so he slept. He wasn't sure for how long, but for certain, it had to be a little over an hour.

So when he woke, he expected his lengthy slumber to dissolve the images of the two twins, dressed in black, out of his head.

But it didn't, if anything, It only made them aware of just how real the children were.

“What do you two want?” He croaked, and was surprised by the dryness of his throat. He looked at them for a short minute when directed his question towards the, but quickly turned away. He just wanted them gone.

When the silence was the only answer he received, he could feel an angry vessel pumping in his head.

“Well-”   
“Were sorry, Akihito!” Blurted the girl, first. Just like she always spoke first, “We didn't mean to...”   
“Didn't mean to _what?_ ” He found it incredibly easy nowadays to control his rage through his words, though seeing the very cause of his pain before him was making it incredibly difficult to do so, “I thought that if I took this surgery, I wouldn't have to see _any_ of you.”

The kids lowered their heads in shame, and the little boy made to turn away. But his sister grabbed his tiny fingers.

If anything, she was the most confident out of the two. She reminded Takaba a lot of Asami.

“We know w-what we did was w-wrong,” she manged through her obvious shakiness, “A-and we know you don't like us...but we j-jsut want you to k-know that we're really s-sorry.”   
Takaba sighed, and ran a hand through his blond hair. Their apology couldn't in anyway erase the crap that they'd subjected him to, and their words couldn’t fix what had been done.

The kids—at least the daughter—could pick up on the vibe. They were unwanted here just as they were unwanted at home.

Takaba picked up on that vibe.

“How are things at home?” He said, barely above a whisper, “Are things going...are you guys okay?”

They didn't respond, only turned around and began to leave.

Takaba rolled his eyes, “Wait, I forgive you! It's not use holding a grudge over something that can't be changed, I guess...I don't want to become bitter and hateful...like you.”

They stopped at the door, and their body language suggested that the comment struck a chord.

“You guys...you guys should go home,” he advised sadly. They didn't really hesitate to stay.

As the door clicked, Akihito wondered what their relationship with Asami was like now. Was it strained? Were they being neglected or ignored?   
He'd experienced Asami's “cold side” first hand, and it _was_ painful. He wondered how Asami's “cold side” was affecting his own children.

He groaned...he couldn't just leave them to fend for themselves...could he? Why did he even care? Maybe it was his parental instincts coming in, or the small inkling of love he still held for them.

For their sakes...for his sake...he supposed he could talk to Asami and make sure they were alright.

No matter how terribly they'd treated him months ago, he still loved them very, _very_ much.

That's why he took the bullet for them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done with the story! Yay! After this, there'll be 1-2 more chapters, and then it'll be done. Thank you for those of you who have stuck with it. Also, this will not be the twin's last confession, there is still a lot that needs to be fixed. I love writing for you guys, in fact, you're the only reason I write for the VF anymore. I lost my liking for the plot ages ago. So again, thank you guys for always reading.   
> Have a very wonderful week, spread love, and God bless!

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of this story, let's just say that same-sex marriage is legal in Japan. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and I know it's full of angst. Fun fact, the first yaoi fanfic I read was angst, and that was in the 3rd grade (I'm about to be a senior in High School), any way, it had to do with Itachi and Orochimaru, and it was some hardcore BDSM, and my fragile, Catholic School girl mind couldn't unsee...ugh, anyway, it was angst, and I loved it, and that's why i like writing angst.  
> Again, hope you like it, there will be future mpreg, and God bless!


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